Raised By Cain
by Caretaker13
Summary: Cain gets an unexpected surprise from Elvira in the form of Klarion The Witch Boy. How do these three characters tie together? Why is Cain training Klarion in the fine arts of caretaking and storytelling? Read and find out.
1. Chapter 1

**Raised By Cain**

Cain the caretaker arrived home late to The House of Mystery after having spent the entire day visiting with his younger brother, Abel, in The House of Secrets across the cemetery. He pulled an old brass key from the pocket of his blue suede jacket and stuck it into the rusty lock of the front door which kept all of his mysteries locked safely within the house. Instead of the usual click of the tumbler turning, though, there was silence. The door was already unlocked.

Cain scowled. What the hell is this, he thought. He didn't like surprises and was not in the mood for any nonsense. Ever. Still, he'd have to get to the bottom of this, so he adjusted the small round glasses on his long, pointy nose, threw open the door, and stepped into his house filled more with annoyance than with any trepidation.

The entry hall was completely dark, but in the distance Cain could see the flickering light of a fire coming from the sitting room. He stalked towards it quickly. He wasn't scared of who might be in there waiting for him. He was never really scared of anything. He was, however, quite scary himself when he was mad.

He entered the sitting room in a huff and was fully prepared to start shouting insults at whoever was in there, but when he saw who it was he stopped dead and all words left his brain. Standing by a large window, with her voluptuous figure silhouetted against the full moon, was Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.

"Well it took ya long enough to get here. I've been bangin' around this rat trap for hours waiting for ya," said the vamp, gesturing emphatically with her well manicured hands.

"What… in the name of Jackson Pollocks' polypsis are YOU doing here?" said Cain, regaining his usual charming demeanor. "I thought I got rid of you ages ago."

"Yeah, good to see you too, Cainy old boy," said Elvira.

She flounced over towards the caretaker, then passed him, so close that her beehive hairdo brushed against his pointy beard. Cain screwed up his face and then watched as the woman walked over to a leather armchair near the door and sat down in it like she owned the place.

"Take a seat Cain, there's something important we need to discuss," she said.

"Do not tell me what to do in my own house. How did you even get in here anyway?" Cain demanded, angrily.

Elvira reached into her pale and ample cleavage and produced a small brass key on a long chain. It matched the one Cain had exactly.

"Once a caretaker, always a caretaker," said Elvira with a wink.

Cain sighed. It was exhausting being grouchy twenty-four seven and past experience with the Mistress of the Dark had taught him that it was better just to play along with her rather than try to intimidate her, so instead he plopped himself down on an old gray sofa.

"What's this all about?" he asked in an even voice.

"Weeell…," said Elvira, kicking one leg out and then standing up.

Cain remembered that she could never sit still for five seconds. It annoyed him, but at the same time he envied her energy.

Elvira paced for a moment trying to find her words.

"Do you remember that little… thing we had a while back?" she finally asked.

Cain recalled the brief fling the two of them had shared shortly after he had returned to reclaim his house from her many years prior. It was something he didn't like to remember often, except sometimes late at night when the weather was particularly cold, or he was feeling particularly lonely.

"Yes," he said.

"Specifically, do you remember that little thing we had in the bed of room thirteen?" she asked.

Cain sat up erect.

"Oh, that," he said. "What about that?"

Elvira continued to walk about the room nervously fidgeting with the red ring on her right hand.

"Well I've been thinking a lot about that night lately…" she said.

"It was a long time ago," said Cain. "We'd both had a little too much brandy that night and it was Dia de los Muertos after all. Neither of us was in our right mind."

"Yeah, you aint just whistling Dixie," Elvira interjected.

"Buuut if it meant so much to you that you decided to come all the way back here to The House of Mystery now just to try and reignite a spark, well, I suppose…"

"Oh, puh-leez," said Elvira, walking over to where a velvet curtain separated the sitting room from the room next door. "Go buy a vowel. I am not here to try and stir all THAT up again."

Cain frowned.

"Then what is the purpose of this unexpected and frankly unwanted visit? Why have you come?"

"We had to," said Elvira.

"We?" said Cain.

Dramatically, Elvira pulled aside the velvet curtain. Behind it stood a small boy with pointy black hair, pale skin, and an outfit that wouldn't look out of place on Eddie Munster. In his arms he held an orange cat.

"Me… and your son, Klarion," said Elvira, gesturing to the boy.

Cain looked at the kid and then at Elvira. He knew that she had, what some might describe as, a sense of humor, but the look on her face now told him that this time she was being deadly serious. He suddenly became very scared.


	2. Chapter 2

"Come again?" said Cain, as soon as the shock had worn off.

"No thanks, once was plenty," quipped Elvira.

She turned to the boy and whispered, "Go wait in another room while we talk."

Klarion took his cat and silently left the room.

"How could this be?," asked Cain, after the boy was out of earshot. "How could we have had a child and I'm just now finding out about it?"

"Hey, I just found out myself, okay," said Elvira.

"How cou-" began Cain, but Elvira cut him off.

"Look, after my lovely stay here at casa del _yuck_ I went back to hosting my show, Movie Macabre. During the months that followed I started gaining all this weight and eating everything in sight, but I figured it was just some kind of stress related thing as a result of having had to put up with you and this hovel for all that time. Then one night I was in bed trying to get some sleep and I started having all these freaky visions of devils, pentagrams, and naked people covered in blood dancing around a fire with animal masks on. I mean, normally I enjoy having that kinda stuff in the bedroom, but I couldn't tell if this was a dream, or reality, or some mix of the two. All I know is when I woke up the next morning I was seven pounds lighter and felt like a huge burden had been lifted off my shoulders."

Cain listened patiently.

"Anyway, I went on with my life after that and completely forgot about the whole thing when all of a sudden last week this kid shows up at my doorstep claiming to be my son," Elvira continued.

"And you believed him?" asked Cain.

"At first no," said Elvira. "I've had lots of cats come sniffing around in the past, all claiming to be my offspring, all wanting to try and steal the horror host spotlight away from me, and all turned out to be nothing but phonies."

"And this was different how?" asked Cain. He was becoming increasingly agitated.

"Well, this kid, Klarion, said that after his less-than-holy birth, he ended up in some place called Limbo Town where he was raised by a lovely young witch couple."

"Witches?" asked Cain.

"Yeah, the whole town is full of 'em. It seems little Klarion inherited some witch genes from my side of the family. We're witches way back on my mothers side. Anyhoo, he said that the older he got, the more he felt he didn't belong with his adopted parents, so he left Limbo Town in search of his roots. Eventually finding me."

"How?" asked Cain. This whole thing was starting to stink like rotten fish to him. As an old storyteller himself, he wasn't buying this yarn for one second.

"Magic, I suppose," said Elvira with a shrug. "I guess witches can smell their own. Believe me, I was as skeptical as you at first. It wasn't until I took a DNA test that I had to admit it; he's mine."

"Yours fine, but what makes you think he's mine?" asked Cain.

"Well look at him," said Elvira, gesturing to nowhere in particular. "He's got your naturally pointy horn hair. Not to mention your sharp teeth, pointy ears and bad attitude. Plus, the timeline adds up. He can only be yours."

"Even if what you say is true, and he is OUR child, which I'm not saying is the case, but if it was… why have you two come here? Do you expect we'll get married and live happily ever after here in The House of Mystery? Because-"

"Ugh! Gag me with a spoon, why don't you. No," said Elvira.

"Then what? Is this a money issue? Because I'll have you know that caretaking isn't exactly the highest paying job in the world," said Cain.

"No kidding," said Elvira, regarding Cain's outfit.

"Look, all I want is for you to spend some time with the kid. Get to know him. He really is a wonderful little… guy. Besides, I've had him for a whole week now and I need a break. I got a horror convention coming up in a few days that I have to make an appearance at and I do not want to have to worry about him running around wrecking up the place."

"Wrecking up?" asked Cain.

"I-I-I mean distracting me from my work," said Elvira.

"I don't know," said Cain. "I mean, I like kids. In small doses, anyway. I am a storyteller after all, but having one live here… and my own flesh and blood? I just don't know."

"Well, I'll tell you what," said Elvira. "You think about it, meanwhile, I'll go get little Klarion and you two can have a proper meeting."

She quickly left the room.

While he waited for her to return, Cain began to pace the floor nervously. A son? Could this be? There was a time once before when he had thought that he had maybe, possibly had a son. One from many, many centuries ago. That was just a half-formed almost memory, though. This was different. This son was right here in his house, in his life. This one couldn't be denied.

As he paced he began to stroke his pointy beard and think about the situation. There were advantages to having a son. He knew many things he could teach the boy. He could instruct him in the fine art of taking care of the old House of Mystery. He could teach him all the nuances and techniques involved in telling a well-crafted mystery story. He could even teach him all about his other interests such as cooking, gardening, and raising pet gargoyles. The more he thought about it, the more Cain liked the idea of having an heir to pass all his wisdom and knowledge onto. As he came to this realization he also came to the large window at the end of the sitting room and looked out of it with a wistful smile on his face.

That is until he saw the black Ford Thunderbird convertible with the vanity license plate reading KICKASS on it peeling away from the back of the house at full speed.

"The Macabre Mobile!" yelled Cain, as he opened the window and stuck his head out. "Elvira, you get back here!" he called at the top of his lungs.

But the car quickly vanished over the horizon.

"Oooh that… woman!" growled Cain to himself.

"So…," said a voice that made Cain turn around with a start.

Klarion stood in the doorway of the sitting room holding and petting his orange cat.

"What are we gonna do first... daddy?"


	3. Chapter 3

A short while later Klarion sat at the small wooden breakfast table in the kitchen of The House of Mystery. He had told Cain he was hungry, so the caretaker happily obliged him with a glass of tepid water and some stale old butter cookies. The boy didn't seem to mind, though, he gobbled down everything that was put in front of him like a hungry animal. Cain leaned up against a counter nearby watching his son as he ate.

"So… Klarion, is it? How old are you?" he asked.

"Thirteen," answered Klarion, without looking up from his plate.

"Good age, good age," said Cain.

"Yeah, whatever. So what's the deal here? Are we supposed to bond or something?" said Klarion, suddenly looking up at Cain with an angry intensity that his father immediately found both familiar and charming.

"I suppose," said Cain. "I think what your mother wants is for me to essentially take you under my wing. Show you a bit of the old family business and maybe we can get to know each other along the way."

Klarion grunted and began to gulp his water.

"I'm sure you're curious what exactly this place is," said Cain, grandly gesturing all around him.

Klarion looked at him with disinterest.

"Welcome… to The House of Mystery!" Cain yelled in a loud, scratchy voice, then he gave Klarion an evil look. "Do you dare enter?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Whatever," said Klarion.

"Then let's begin," Cain said excitedly.

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As he led Klarion through the winding corridors of the house, Cain would point out the unique and mysterious things around them.

"That mask there," Cain said, gesturing to an orange and white porcelain mask***** that hung on one of the walls. "That mask has a very sordid and bloody past. There are many chilling stories connected with that little item. Maybe if you're a good boy I'll tell you one of them later on."

Klarion rolled his eyes, but Cain was too preoccupied to notice. The mask saw, though. It watched both of them with empty eyeholes as they passed by it, an evil grin permanently stretched across it's face.

"Oh, and here! This is interesting," Cain said, running over to a small metal contraption with a glass ball on top of it standing in a corner.

"It looks like an old, empty gumball machine," said Klarion.

"It is a gumball machine," said Cain. "Or is it?"

Klarion didn't look impressed, so Cain just went on.

"There's no gumballs in here now for the safety of my guests, but let me tell you, the ones that used to fill this machine were… out of this world******. It's a delightfully frightening tale that-"

"Look can we just get on with this tour without having to delve into the penny dreadful stuff?" asked Klarion.

Cain looked affronted, but acted civil since this was his own flesh and blood and because the boy's snarky demeanor reminded him so much of his younger self.

"Very well," he said, leading the boy onward. "You're right, now is not the time for stories, now is the time to learn how to properly take care of The House of Mystery and all that dwells within her. We'll get into how to tell stories later. Now, most items like the mask and the gumball machine just need a good dusting from time to time. You can use a feather duster or damp cloth for that…"

Klarion looked around. There was dust and cobwebs in about every nook and cranny of this house. The only things that seemed to be clean were all the little knick knacks scattered around.

"I think you've missed a few spots over the last century or so," he said.

"Oh no, you never dust the house itself," said Cain, facing his son and becoming very serious. "The house likes its dust and cobwebs and loose floorboards. It's all a part of it's atmosphere. It needs to remain spooky in order to remain itself."

"Oookay," said Klarion. This guy was a few skittles short of a rainbow in his opinion.

"Here, come this way," said Cain. He started practically running towards a door at the end of the hall. Klarion leisurely followed him.

"This is the-" Cain began, as he pulled a key out of his pocket and started to unlock the door, but a sudden crashing sound from another part of the house caught his attention.

"What the-?" he demanded.

"It must be Teekl, my cat," said Klarion. He had let it wonder around the place while he ate earlier and Cain had completely forgotten about it until now.

"Sometimes he likes to knock over things," said Klarion. "Usually old, expensive glass things."

"Just… stay here," said Cain. "I'll be right back."

The caretaker took off in the direction of the noise, leaving the key in the lock of the door and Klarion standing innocently nearby. When he was safely out of sight, an evil grin split Klarion's face. He grabbed the key, turned it and opened the door.

Inside was a good sized library full of old looking books.

"Ugh, more stupid stories," said Klarion. He was becoming thoroughly bored with this entire day and when he became bored he was usually forced to make his own fun. He stepped inside the room and looked around for something to have fun with. Standing on either side of a large window at one end of the library were two metal suits of armor. They would do. Klarion pointed his pale finger in their direction and shot out a small blast of magic that forked in two and went into each suit's helmet. Immediately the suits sprung to life and drew their swords.

"Hee hee hee," cackled Klarion.

The suits marched over to the witch boy and saluted him.

"At ease, my boys," he said.

The two soldiers stood at attention awaiting orders from their leader.

"Hmm, what should we do with you," Klarion said, stroking his chin wickedly. "Eh, I guess just go forth and cause some chaos," he said at last.

The suits of armor saluted again and then marched out of the room. Klarion could hear them clanking down the hall and began to giggle. He then walked over to one of the shelves and began to read the titles on the books. Maybe he could find a really valuable one and destroy it, he thought. As he perused, he ran his sharp fingers along the spines of the books. Nothing really stuck out to him at first, but then all of a sudden one book gave off an energy that chilled his already cold blood. He tilted his head and read the name of the book which was in Latin, Et Non Tanget, it was called.

An sudden noise from behind him startled Klarion. He turned to see Cain enter the room with his orange cat, Teekl, clinging to his chest as he tried to keep a firm grip on the animal. As soon as they were near Klarion, Teekl retracted its claws and ran to its master. Klarion scooped the cat into his arms and hugged it lovingly.

"Not much of a cat person, are ya?" he said, mockingly.

"Actually, quite the opposite," said Cain, as he fingered one of the new holes now in his jacket. "I used to have one of my own once. Oskar was its name."

"And what happened to _Oskar_?" asked Klarion.

"He died," Cain said, looking right into Teekl's eyes.

The cat hissed at him.

"Now, where were we?" said Cain. "Ah yes, I see you've found the library. Oh I know there are bigger libraries out there: the one at the palace for example, or the one at Shadowcrest…" he trailed off and Klarion wondered if maybe the old man had forgotten to take his brain pills.

"But what this one lacks in size," he continued, getting back on track. "It more than makes up for in mystery. Every book in here has a story, not only inside of it, but also surrounding it. Some are so dangerous, even I don't dare to open them."

"What about this one?" asked Klarion, grabbing Et Non Tanget off the shelf unceremoniously, and showing it to Cain.

"That one… that one is not for children," said Cain with complete calm.

"Oh, how bad could it be?" asked Klarion, beginning to open it.

Cain lunged forward and slammed the book shut.

"First rule of The House of Mystery is, if you want to survive your stay here, you must listen to me," he said, pulling the book out of his son's hands and clutching it to his chest.

Klarion looked at his father with the expression of a dog who had just had a bone snatched out of its mouth.

"Why don't we forget the library for now," said Cain, trying to relieve the sudden tension between himself and his son. "Since you're so interested in animals I think now would be a good time to introduce you to my pet, Gregory."

He gestured towards the door and Klarion reluctantly began to exit the room, shooting Cain a dirty look as he did so. Cain quickly stuck the old Latin book on the top of the nearest bookshelf, well out of Klarion's reach. Then he followed him and his cat out giving the room a final once over before shutting the door and locking it again.

"Didn't I have some suits of armor in there?" he said, mostly to himself, as he and Klarion headed away from the library together.

*****_See House of Mystery Halloween annual #1_

******_See The House of Mystery #215_


	4. Chapter 4

In response to the timid knock on the front door of The House of Mystery, Cain quickly jerked it open, grabbed the chubby man with the dark pointy hair and beard who was standing outside, and pulled him inside by the collar of his grey suit jacket.

"What took you so long?" Cain hissed at his brother, Abel.

"I c-c-came as quick as I c-c-could," Abel stuttered back.

Cain, still holding him by his jacket, led his younger sibling down a hall and into a side room.

"What exactly is th-th-this all about?" asked Abel after he'd been released from Cain's grasp. He surveyed his brother and couldn't believe how unkempt he looked. His glasses were askew, his hair, which was usually perfectly quaffed into two horns, was sticking out in every direction as if someone had been tugging on it with both hands, and his clothes were stained and ripped in several places. Abel knew something must be very wrong. Cain always took great pride in his appearance.

"Oh, brother…" said Abel as he went to hug Cain.

Cain slapped him away.

"I don't want your pity," he said. "And I'll tell you exactly what this is about. It's about Klarion."

Abel gasped.

"You know ab-b-bout Klarion?" he said.

"YOU know about Klarion?" asked Cain, anger creeping into his voice.

"Well of course. I know-"

"You know everyone's secrets," Cain finished for him. "Well you might have mentioned this one to ME."

"I thought it w-w-would upset you. And you m-m-must admit it has," said Abel, meekly.

"Actually," said Cain, suddenly solemn, "I was quite excited once I got used to the idea." He turned away from his brother as a mournful expression came over his face.

"I thought it might be nice to have a little tyke who I could teach and mold into the same fine gentleman I've become."

Abel started to say something, but Cain turned on him with a flash of rage in his eyes.

"OF COURSE THAT WAS BEFORE I MET THE LITTLE MONSTER!" he yelled.

"W-w-what happened?" asked Abel.

"Oh, things were fine at first," said Cain. "I showed him around the house. I told him a little bit about all the mysterious things it contained, how to take care of the place... but he wasn't interested! He mocked me at every turn! I thought at first it was just his mother's oh-so-charming wit coming out in him, but this kid goes beyond just snarky; he's flat out rude! You know he made fun of The House of Mystery? And he says he has no interest in hearing any of my stories. What kind of kid doesn't like scary stories? Especially mine?! I tell you, there's something wrong with the boy."

Abel listened patiently and then chuckled. Cain gave him an icy glare.

"I th-th-think you have to look at things f-f-from his point of v-v-view," said Abel. "I mean, h-h-he's just meeting you for the first t-t-time. There's an adj-j-justment period."

"The adjustment period has come and gone," said Cain. "He's been here for three days and in that time he's flooded two of the second floor bathrooms, set fire to the dungeon, taught the bird in the cuckoo clock to say 'Cain stinks', and I still don't know what he's done with the suits of armor that belong in the library. Plus, don't even get me started on that damn cat of his…"

"S-s-so why have you called me over?" Abel asked nervously. "Do you want I should t-t-talk to him?"

"Sort of. I called you over here because I need you to babysit him while I go out for a while."

"M-m-me?" asked Abel, terror stricken. "Why m-m-me?"

"For one thing, it's convenient, since you live right across the cemetery. For another, you have a certain… way with people. They seem to like you for reasons I can't begin to fathom. Maybe he'll behave for YOU while I'm gone."

"B-b-but where are you going?" asked Abel.

"To visit the three witches," said Cain. "The latest of dear little Klarion's pranks was to turn Gregory to stone. He said good gargoyles should be seen and not heard, so he used his ridiculous witchcraft on him. He claims not to know how to reverse the spell, so I have to go consult with some more experienced magic users. Plus, they owe me a favor."

Abel began to sweat.

"Klarion can do w-w-witchcraft?" he asked.

"Another lovely trait from his mother," said Cain. "Oh, stop shaking. You'll be fine. Now come meet your nephew," he said, grabbing Abel firmly by the shoulder and leading him out of the room.

"Where is h-h-he?" Abel asked, fearfully.

"Down the hall, scrubbing the floor. It's his punishment," said Cain with a grin. It was the first sign of happiness he'd shown since Abel arrived.

Klarion was sitting on the hallway floor with his back resting against the wall when he heard the brothers footsteps approaching. He quickly scrambled over to the mop bucket and scrub brush nearby and began to feign cleaning.

"What is that you're using?" demanded Cain as soon as he was standing over his son.

Klarion looked up at Cain.

"Murphy's oil soap," he said in a tone that indicated that Cain was a moron for asking, and probably jut a moron in general.

"White vinegar!" yelled Cain. "I told you. Oil soap kills the wood."

"I don't know why I'm even doing this," shouted Klarion. He got up off his hands and knees and threw the brush down into the bucket which caused water to splash in Abel's face. "I thought the stupid House of Misery was supposed to be all dirty anyhow."

"Not the floors," said Cain. "The floors are to be washed regularly. Think of it as a therapeutic massage for the house."

Cain walked over and began to run his hand softly over one of the house's papered walls.

"Treat the house right and it shall treat you right in return," he said, smoothly.

"Do you and the house want to be alone?" asked Klarion.

"Just do as I say," snapped Cain. "And I want you to meet your uncle, Abel."

Abel put away the handkerchief he'd been using to wipe his face clean and stuck out his hand to Klarion. Klarion shook it civilly, but eyed Abel with suspicion.

"Wait a minute," he said. "Cain AND Abel. So, what, does that mean my grandparents are Adam and Eve?"

"Just Eve actually," said Abel. "We d-d-don't talk about Adam."

"This family is retarded," said Klarion.

"Be that as it may," said Cain. "I want you to get along with your uncle. I'm going out for most of the evening and he will be watching over you. Make sure you finish all your chores WITHOUT USING MAGIC and then I want you to spend at least one hour before bed practicing your storytelling. You can use your uncle as an audience."

Cain then turned his attention to Abel and pointed his finger at him.

"And you better see to it that he does all that, blubber buns," he said.

"Oh d-d-don't w-w-worry, I w-w-will," said Abel.

Klarion watched this exchange and then gave both men a grin.

"Oh don't worry, father, I think me and uncle will get along just fine. Please feel free to stay out as long as you like."

Cain gave Klarion a sideways glance and then turned and walked away.

"I'll be back when I'm back," he called, as he disappeared down the hall. A moment later they heard the front door slam.

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About two hours later Klarion had finished with the floors and had moved on to his next assigned task. He came into the living room of The House of Mystery carrying an armfull of freshly chopped firewood and began to load it into the room's large, ornate fireplace. Teekl, as usual, was at his side and his uncle Abel sat in a comfy armchair right next to the fireplace reading a book.

For the most part Klarion and Abel had gotten along just fine since Cain left. Both staying out of the other's way. Klarion figured it would be in his best interest to ease his uncle into a false sense of security before moving forward with the plan he'd been hatching ever since the two had met.

"Uncle," he said as innocently as he could.

Abel looked up from his book.

"Yes, K-K-Klarion?" he said.

"I see you're a fan of books. Do you read a lot?" asked Klarion.

"Oh, y-y-yes," said Abel, enthusiastically. "In fact I l-l-love stories in all f-f-forms. Books, movies, plays, c-c-comics-"

"Have you ever heard of a book called Et Non Tanget?" Klarion interrupted.

Abel's face fell and he began to look around himself as if something was going to jump out from behind his chair and grab him.

"Y-y-yes, I h-h-have," he said in a hushed whisper. "In f-f-fact Cain even has that book in his personal lib-b-brary." He thought for a moment and then said, "Oh, I supp-p-pose I shouldn't have told you that. It was a s-s-secret."

"No harm, no foul," said Klarion. "I already saw it in there. What can you tell me about it?"

"You d-d-don't want to know about th-th-that," said Abel. "Good little boys should stay away from such things."

"I am magical, ya know. I could handle any kind of curse, or hex, or whatever that it might have on it."

"Let me t-t-tell you another secret about it," Abel said, leaning down toward his nephew. Klarion put down the piece of firewood he was holding and leaned forward to meet him.

"That book is dangerous," Abel whispered.

Klarion looked into his uncle's eyes for a moment and realized the man was not going to be any help at all. Nonchalantly he picked the piece of wood he had been holding back up and then swiftly swung it like a baseball bat, cracking Abel over the head with it, and fracturing his skull. Abel fell out of the chair onto the floor. Klarion stood up and looked down at his fallen relative.

"Everything is dangerous," he said coldly. "It's no secret."

Then he turned on his heel and left the room with Teekl at his side, as a pool of blood began to form on the floor under Abel's head.

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Klarion, along with his cat, quickly made his way upstairs to the library. With a slight wave of his hand and some magic words he easily unlocked the door to it and stepped inside. Immediately he headed to the book case where, days ago, he had glimpsed Cain put the book he was looking for on the top of. Due to his height, however, he couldn't see it up there.

"Leviatay," he said and began to float off the ground.

As soon as he was high enough to see the top of the book case, all he saw was dust.

"Curses!" he yelled, and fell back to the ground, landing hard on his feet.

He stroked his chin and glanced from side to side.

"If only I hadn't brained that secret keeper, I could make him tell me where it is," he said, either to himself or to his cat.

"Hmmm," he thought, as he looked around the room.

"Treat the house right and it shall treat you right in return," he said out loud, remembering his father's words. "I wonder. After all, the house must know where that old fool hid the book, and he does always treat the thing like its alive. Maybe I can get it to help me… one way or another."

He grinned an evil grin.

"Oh house," he said to the room in general. "I don't suppose you'd do me a small, tiny, little bitty favor would you? I don't suppose you'd show me where the book, Et Non Tanget, is hidden would you?"

Nothing happened. Teekl stared at Klarion, who gave the cat a wicked smile.

"Don't want to cooperate, huh?" he said loudly, grabbing a thick and heavy book off of the nearest shelf. "Fine by me."

He hurled the large book across the room and through one of the libraries large windows, shattering most of the glass.

"I guess I'll just have to take this place apart piece by piece, then, until I find it myself," he said, grabbing another book off the shelf.

Nothing happened for a few seconds and then an eerie creaking sound broke the silence. Klarion and Teekl both turned to the library door which had ever so slightly opened by itself.

"Smart house," said Klarion. He dropped the book on the floor and headed out of the library with Teekl right behind him.

Once in the hall, he looked around for some kind of sign. The only thing he saw, besides some wall sconces and a few closed doors belonging to other rooms, was an old oil painting on a nearby wall. It depicted a pilgrim type man sitting in a chair. Klarion noticed that one of the man's hands, which rested in his lap, was pointing ever so slightly to his right, down the hallway. Klarion and Teekl looked at each other for a moment and then headed in that direction.

At the end of the hall, Klarion was forced to make a right turn, which led him to another closed door. The door creaked open a crack.

"Haha," Klarion exclaimed, and yanked the door open.

Inside was a small closet with a few old coats hanging in it, and on a shelf above them were some board games from the 1960's. Klarion looked up and didn't see the book amongst the games, so he began to feel around in the coats. Finally, in the inside pocket of a brown leather trench coat he found what he wanted, Et Non Tanget, looking just as he remembered it, only now it had a metal padlock on it."

"Psh," he sneered, and shot a small blast of magic out of his finger at the lock. It did not open.

"Sesamah openay," he yelled, and shot an even bigger blast of magic at it. Still it would not unlock.

"God damn it!" he yelled.

"W-w-watch your mouth, young man," said Abel, surprising Klarion from behind. Klarion turned and saw his uncle applying pressure to the bloody lump on his head with his handkerchief.

"How do I open this?" demanded Klarion. "Where's the key? Tell me the _secret,_" he mocked.

"You j-j-just forget all ab-b-bout that b-b-book," said Abel. "Like I told you, and come downstairs with me and I'll make you some nice s-s-soup or something."

"Cain has it with him, doesn't he?" Klarion said, ignoring his uncle. "That's fine. I'll just wait for him to come home and then I'll take it from him."

"Y-y-you'll do nothing of the s-s-sort," said Abel. "You're c-c-coming with me."

"Okay, but can my friend come too?" said Klarion, pointing to something behind Abel.

Abel turned around just in time to have his face met by the business end of a broad sword, swung by a living suit of armor. It cleaved his skull in two and sent his whole fat body forcefully to the ground with a thud where it crumpled in a bloody, dead heap.

Klarion clutched the book to his chest and cackled with glee.


End file.
